


Aftershocks

by unwindmyself



Series: curious shapes shift in the dark [1]
Category: True Blood
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, F/M, Fix-It, Gen, Vampire Family, agency and choices!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-13
Updated: 2013-09-13
Packaged: 2017-12-26 11:01:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/965174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unwindmyself/pseuds/unwindmyself
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the wake of Billith's apparent transformation, the impromptu resistance hightails it and attempts to make sense of what this means for them (and the world at large).  And so an alternate season six begins.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Aftershocks

**Author's Note:**

> Many of the details and some of the lines here are borrowed from 6.01, "Who Are You, Really?" and the proper divergence from canon doesn't begin until partway through the story. However, the further this line progresses, the more differences there will be.
> 
> Part one, "No Trace."

It’s been a while since Eric gave any serious thought to the notion of gods – or anyway, it had been a while before all of this Lilith business – but he’s not sure he can think of any that actually roar like some scrawny, bloody lion on its hind legs.  Maybe that was in one of the many passages of the book that he’d skipped over.

His only thought after Bill – Billith? – materializes from that blood pool (if Nora can explain _this_ , he’s going to be impressed and horrified in equal measure, but he’s starting to think that there’s no way _to_ explain what’s happened) is that he has to get Sookie the fuck out of there.  Some of the time they’re running, his hand is in hers, just for convenience’s sake; she grabs onto him in the elevator, but it’s only anxiety making her do that.

He can hear her heart thudding away in her chest, but he doesn’t mention it.

 

* * *

 

It falls to Nora to get the others herded upstairs – most of them haven’t seen much more of this building than the lobby or a jail cell and she knows it inside-out, so it makes sense – and the task can’t be completed soon enough.  Her patience is worn thin, she’s snapping right and left, and between the brother’s mention of Warlow and her worry about all that’s transpired with Eric and the fairy and Bill and – and perhaps Salome too (Nora knows it’s wrong to still care about what happened to her, but she can’t help it), it’s all she can do to keep remotely focused.

Pamela’s assessment of her, “bitch general,” may not be far off.  Not that she’s working too hard to change it, they’re none of them sociable right now: her niece is irritable, her grandniece’s temper matches (though at least she’s a bit more efficient in fighting, or she’s been trying harder).

And the brother keeps shooting without thinking like he’s in one of those war games the humans like so much.  “I’ve had a lot of practice killing your kind,” he shouts between rounds.

“I wager not as much as I’ve had killing yours,” she retorts.  If it sounds like a threat, so be it.  He’s helping, and she won’t act on any implied threats, but she doesn’t have to be nice to him.  He’s not family.

 

* * *

 

“We’re gonna meet up with Jason and the others upstairs,” Sookie mutters.  It’s not a question.

“Your brother, my sister, my progeny and her progeny,” Eric agrees, careful to keep his tone calm without being condescending.  “And Jessica.”

Sookie nods, setting her jaw as they turn yet another corner, and Eric frowns.  Straightforward as this building had seemed when they were all playing politics and twirling high through the corridors, it’s turned into a labyrinth now that they’re trying to get back out again.

He wants to say he’s sorry for dragging her into this or for letting this happen in the first place or for any other number of things, because he knows he should and because he means it too.  He wants to say it’s going to be all right, but he knows better than to guarantee that or even suppose it.

Instead what he says is, “With any luck, someone will have left the keys in their car.  It’s been far too long since I hotwired anything, I wouldn’t want that to be what trips us up.”

Sookie rolls her eyes.  At least that keeps things normal between them.

 

* * *

 

“What the hell is goin’ on?” the redhead – Jessica, her name’s Jessica, Bill’s only progeny – keeps asking, her voice going higher and higher-pitched each time.  She’s the only one of them without a weapon in her hands, and Nora’s half-tempted to pass her a stake just to give her a sense of security.

(It won’t work, of course; for all the tough talk about staking vamps that humans have, for all the lucky accidents that have been had using the damn things, wielding stakes properly is a lost art, and it’s one that Nora is strangely attached to despite obviously knowing how to shoot a gun as well.  From what she can gather, Jessica wouldn’t be comfortable doing either.)

“We’re making our escape,” Tara mutters.  “Can’t you tell?”

It’s a glib answer, as they all know Jessica wasn’t just asking about what’s going on in this exact moment, but it’s the only clear one.

 

* * *

 

“For it being their job, these schmucks weren’t too good at keeping things secure,” Eric notes after trying a door handle and finding it predictably unlocked.

“You don’t need to keep making idle chit-chat, Eric,” Sookie says softly.

He raises his hands, offers up his most sheepish and pseudo-innocent expression – _I surrender_ – but he knows it’s a reasonable request, so he obliges.  They get in the SUV without another word, just Eric starting the engine as Sookie buckles herself into the passenger seat.  He doesn’t have to look to know she’s rolling her eyes at the way he doesn’t wear a seatbelt, too.

 

* * *

 

They’re nearly to the back exit when the building starts to shake.

“We’ve gotta go back for Eric!” Pam shouts.

“And Sook,” Jason adds.

Nora clenches her fists, summoning all of her social graces to keep from shrieking hysterically at them.  “Eric told me to get you all out of here, no questions asked, no going back,” she says, even though she’s not exactly keen on the idea of leaving her brother behind either.

“I don’t need Mary Poppins givin’ me approval,” Pam snaps, and she’s turning like she’s going to do it anyway when Tara grabs her arm.

“You aren’t gonna do anybody any good if you get yourself killed doin’ something stupid,” she mutters.

It probably ruins any of the _street cred_ (does anyone still say that?  Does it matter?) that Nora’s built up with the others over the course of this escapade, but she flashes a tight, grateful smile at the younger vampire anyway.

 

* * *

 

Despite the fact that it’s asininely adolescent in most circumstances, Eric leans on the horn when he sees the others emerging from the building, and he can’t help but be amused by their expressions when their heads turn and they hurry toward the vehicle: Jessica is startled, Nora and Pam are similarly relieved, Tara is resigned, Jason is aggravated.

“I see you all made it out alive as you're going to be, and you’ve all been getting along swimmingly,” Eric declares as he steps on the gas and peels out of there.  It’s at least half sarcasm, because that’s easier somehow.

“Oh, yeah,” Pam retorts.  “Between Auntie Uptight and the idiot soldier, it’s been a riot.”

“You might talk to your progeny about manners,” Nora says coolly, meeting Eric’s eyes in the rearview mirror.  It’s the voice she uses when she’s trying not to scream with frustration.

He really should have figured that “it’s nice to see you, Pam, glad to help bust you out of jail, I have to go deal with a crazed acquaintance-at-best now, and by the way I have a sister, say hello” wasn’t going to go over well, and it certainly wasn’t going to mesh well with Nora’s utter lack of tolerance for others’ impertinence (despite her own tendencies toward it).   But it’s too late to fix that now.

“Something tells me both of you could stand to be a bit nicer,” Eric muses, smiling sweetly.

Like he’d hoped, this shuts them both up, Pam turning her frown Tara’s direction and Nora turning hers out the window.  They must drive ten minutes like that, everyone silent and in various states of annoyance and worry, before Jessica leans forward.

“Where’s Bill?” she asks suddenly, like she’s been waiting for an appropriate time to.

“Bill isn’t…” Sookie hesitates.  “He’s… well, we didn’t…”

“Bill’s gone,” Eric says tersely.

“Dead?” Jessica whispers, and though she personally has never given two fucks about the man, Tara lays a hand over the other girl’s comfortingly, since nobody else is going to.

“Yes and no,” Sookie hesitates.  “And – I don’t know, exactly.  Eric, would you mind fillin’ me in on what the hell that was back there?”

“Nora?” he says instead of taking the question, and she is the only one of them who reads the fear in his tone as well as the blasé irritation.

As such, she’s careful not to sound _too_ pissed off and petulant when she replies, “I can’t help you explain, I wasn’t there to see it.”

“Was there anything in your Bible about a second coming?” he asks before adopting an exaggerated voice that wouldn’t be out of place in terrible sketch comedy.  It would almost be funny in another circumstance.  “Someday, the great Lilith will be reborn in the body of a low-level monarch gone fucking crazy?  No?”

Nora stiffens, and she shifts so she’s practically resting her chin on the back of Eric’s seat.  “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about Bill,” he says.  “He drank the entire vial of that blood, exploded into a puddle, then reemerged from it naked and covered in viscera like a horror film.”

“What blood?” Jessica asks.  In spite of herself, there’s a tear starting to roll down her cheek.  “Lilith’s blood?  That got y’all high?”

“The very same,” Eric confirms.   “Bill as we knew him is gone, as I said.”

“There was never mention of a resurrection,” Nora murmurs, as confused by the fact that she doesn’t understand as by the situation itself.  “Not at all, but certainly not the way you’re describing it – if it even is a resurrection, not some – some demonic corruption –”

“This bitch sounds pretty demonic to me,” Pam interjects, almost smug.

“Pam,” Eric warns.  “Don’t.”

Pam settles back against the seat, then, arms folded over her chest, and Tara rests her other hand on her Maker’s knee (as much comfort as caution).  “So what you’re gettin’ at,” she says, since everybody else seems to be beating around the bush about it, “Is that somehow Bill Compton ain’t Bill Compton anymore, now he’s some – fucked up vampire god thing?”

“Fuckin’ a,” Jason mutters.

 

* * *

 

“You really sure we should be comin’ back here?” Jessica asks as they pull into the Fangtasia parking lot.  “I mean – isn’t someone gonna find us?”

“If by someone you mean anyone from the Authority, I highly doubt it,” Eric says, just a touch too glib.

“And if by someone you mean Billith, he could find us no matter where we go, long’s we keep you around,” Pam mutters, arching an eyebrow at the redhead as they climb out of the car.

Before she can stop herself, Nora lifts a hand.  “We don’t know that, actually,” she interrupts.  “Bill’s pull would affect Jessica, unless – I don’t suppose he had released you, by some luck?”

Jessica nods, though hesitantly.

“That’s a small mercy,” Nora sighs.  “My point is, though, we’re still not sure how many of Bill’s traits this new hybrid creature has retained.  Bill’s pull reached Jessica once, but – Billith, his pull shouldn’t.”  The nickname sounds clumsy on her tongue, and she has to make a point of using the male pronoun (she doesn’t want to, she’s used to Lilith being a woman, but – she’s not just Lilith anymore, either).

“Should we be taking our chances?” Pam asks flatly.

It’s no surprise that this causes Jessica to burst into tears, full-on ugly sobbing, and dash into the building ahead of the rest; they catch the last of her speeding into the bathrooms by the time they’ve entered as well.

“We’re approachin’ some kind of religious apocalypse,” Tara mutters, smacking Pam in the arm.  “No one needs you bein’ a bigger bitch than usual on top of it.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Pam replies, but it’s easy to see she’s trying not to smile just a little.

“Would you rather avoid going home tonight, in case our monster should decide to show up?” Eric asks Sookie, in a deliberate attempt to shift the attention away from his progeny’s saccharine displays of affection (not fighting counts as such from her).

“I don’t wanna feel like I’m not safe in my own home,” Sookie grumbles, at the same time that Jason exclaims, “Hell no, we ain’t stayin’ here.”

“It’s likely you _aren’t_ safe,” Nora says, her voice quiet.  “The vampire Bible says –”

But Eric silences his sister with a look, then shifts his attention back to Sookie.  “It’s up to you,” he tells her.  “If you think you can brave it –”

“I’ll be there lookin’ out for her,” Jason interjects.

“If _you_ think you can, nobody’s going to stop you,” Eric finishes, all but ignoring Jason.

Sookie looks from her brother to her once-lover and his family, trying not to dwell on Pam’s complete lack of indifference to the situation or Tara’s not-quite-concern or the strangeness in Nora’s eyes (different than before, when she’d been taking a whiff of fairy, but still disconcerting for reasons that can’t be articulated), but she’d rather the familiar after everything tonight.  She’d rather wake up in the morning – afternoon, more like – and actually greet someone who’s not asleep underground.

“Jason, you mind stayin’ over?” she asks.

“’Course not,” he says, turning on his heel and heading for the door.

“Oh, and if you need anything from me,” Eric says suddenly, “Don’t hesitate to ask.”

Sookie stops in her tracks and tries for a playful smile, albeit a faint one.  “For starters, could I have my house back?”

“Pam, pen and paper,” Eric orders.

Tempted though she is to grumble about how she’s not his errand girl, she’s aware she’s the only one who’d know where he keeps anything, so she speeds into the office and back out, silently producing a fountain pen and a notepad.

The former of which Eric promptly stabs into his wrist; Sookie gasps, Jason cringes, and in spite of herself Tara flinches, causing Pam to pet her hair somehow both soothingly and patronizingly.  Even Nora’s watching with what seems to be increased interest.  The cartridge fills with his blood, and he scribbles on the paper with it before handing it over to Sookie.  “And I’ll have Ginger put the legal documents in the mail tomorrow,” he promises.

“Thanks,” Sookie murmurs, and she looks just slightly surprised that he actually did it.

“Certainly,” Eric says with one of his showy gentleman nods.

“Are we goin’ or what, Sook?” Jason asks impatiently.  He already has a hand on the door.

“Yeah,” Sookie says, heading toward him.  “We are.”

“Be careful,” Tara murmurs, though she turns to avoid Sookie’s glance as soon as it’s out.

“I know,” Sookie whispers anyway before following Jason out.


End file.
